Dawn
by nyakattia
Summary: Early morning, the new rays of the sun seeping into the lab. A perfect time for an argument... or discovery of things hidden. StellaFlack.


_i've been up late writing books/ all about heroes and crooks/ one of them saves you from this/ the other one steals you and then/ sure things fall/ all sure things fall_  
Yellowcard, _Sure Thing Falling_

Clear, soft light streamed into the lab, filtering through the glass walls. Stella switched off the overhead lamp as soon as she could see without it and straightened up, rubbing her eyes. A long night processing evidence and they were still nowhere on the case.

Not to mention the evidence had interrupted a rather nice date with a pleasant young man. She wasn't expecting it to go anywhere, but every once in a while she liked to be reminded that life was more than work.

Around her machines hummed softly and the footsteps of lab techs echoed in the corridors. The elevator dinged softly in the quiet and she heard the steady determined stride just before Flack came into view through the glass.

"Hey, Stell," he greeted, moving into the room to lean on a nearby counter. He looked about how she felt, his hair mused, tie loose and eyes lidded. He was carrying a plain folder in his hands.

"Hey," she replied. "Denton was telling the truth. There is no way he killed that little girl."

Stella watched as he sighed. He had probably been awake at least as long as she had, more than 24 hours now. The case was going nowhere fast, and she had already been over the evidence three times.

"Damn," he said. "Don't suppose you found anything else?"

"Nope." She grimaced. "You got something?" She indicated the folder.

He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, looking for all the world like a little boy in trouble. "Yeah, but uh-" he paused. "Not about the case."

She frowned then smiled a little. "Give it up, Flack. I'm too tired to deal with your sense of humor right now."

He pulled a face, but she knew he wouldn't hold that comment against her. They had been friends for far too long for that.

He liked his lips and paused. Then he spoke. "Drew Bedford."

She blinked. "Yes?" They had met the night before- Flack had picked her up from her date on the way to processing the suspect's apartment and she had briefly introduced the two men. She had a feeling she was about to regret it.

He opened the file and read from it. "Born 1980," he whistled a little through his teeth. "To Lisa and Adam Bedford in Jersey. Three older sisters..."

Stella took a step towards him. "You checked out the man I was with last night?" she questioned, incredulous and more than a little irritated. She crossed her arms.

"No record in New York, but in Jersey... First arrested in '97 for underage drinking and minor drug possession. Then again in 2001 for assault-"

She yanked the file out of his hands, and glanced down at it, frowning. She scanned the information on the first page. "DA declined to prosecute," she read, briefly glancing up to glare at him.

She leafed through the pages. Whatever reason he had for doing the search, he certainly hadn't skimped on the details. A college transcript showed that Drew Bedford had dropped out after just two years. And a civil case against him for unpaid rent was settled out of court.

"There's a paternity suit pending in Jersey," Flack said when she stopped on that page. "Kid's four next month."

She was sorely tempted to slap him. "You had no right," she said instead, voice hard. "If I had wanted this information I could have found it myself."

He pulled a face, shrugged. "I didn't like the way he was lookin' at you."

"That's your excuse?" she questioned, slapping the folder closed and throwing it down on the table. "You didn't like the way he looked at me?" She folded her arms across her chest and glared at him.

He pushed himself off the table, straightening up. "No offense, Stell, but you don't have the best track record when it comes to boyfriends," he replied casually.

Her mouth dropped open. They didn't mention Frankie. Ever. She shook her head, gritting her teeth. "It is none of your business who I choose to spend my time with, Detective," she spat, drawing out the last word like it was an insult instead of his occupation.

He held his arms out at his sides, palms up. "Just trying to help," he said, but there was an edge to his tone.

"And how would you like it if I looked into Devon's past?" she asked heatedly. "I'll bet she's made the social pages a few times. With more than a few men."

He sniffed. "We broke up," he said dismissively.

She raised an eyebrow. "What a surprise."

They both seemed to have stepped over a line somewhere along the way. Stella pulled back from him, glancing around. None of the few lab techs visible through the glass wall were paying attention to them, but someone would probably notice if she slapped him.

She turned away from him, taking a deep breath as she picked up the discarded file. "Fuck off Flack," she said, holding out the file without looking at him.

He grabbed her arm instead of the file, pulling her around to face him. She reacted sharply, yanking her arm but unable to escape his hold, the folder dropping to the floor. He pulled her close, face so fierce he almost scared her.

"I never want to see you in a fucking hospital bed ever fucking again," he growled. "So take some fucking advice, would you?"

As his eyes stared into hers, something new sparked between them in the early morning light.

She inhaled sharply, and watched as his eyes darkened. The realization seeped over her like the light from the new day, penetrating her soul.

There was more to this after all.

For both of them.

Stella pulled out of his now lax hold, breaking the eye contact between them. She gritted her teeth against the turmoil inside.

"I'll take that under advisement," she said in a hash whisper, her heart thudding in her ears.

She turned and left the room, walking through the lab with her hands loose at her sides. Just before she walked around the elevator she paused and looked back. He was still in the lab, picking the folder up off the floor. He straightened and she quickly walked around the corner and out of sight.

She ducked into the first storage room she passed, shutting the door behind her and standing in the dim light provided by one small window high up on the opposite wall.

She placed a hand over her mouth.

------------------------

The end... or is it?

Yes I know Stella did a search on Drew Bedford. Let's just pretend she didn't look far enough (ie. only in New York State)- or that he had his record erased or something. I wrote this before she said she'd done that, and boy was I mad!


End file.
